


here we are (don't turn away now)

by aseaofwords



Series: The Kazer Collections [19]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 03:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14803424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseaofwords/pseuds/aseaofwords
Summary: In the midst of battles, the king worries he’ll lose more than the war.Or,King Toews knows it's wrong to love a knight, but Lord Kane has always been by his side, and his stubbornness refuses to let himself leave his king.





	here we are (don't turn away now)

It's quiet.

During times like these, it's unnerving.

The king walked in briskful, long strides past the tents of soldiers, up to the largest tent of them all. His red silk cape flowed behind him with every step, and he pushed the left tent fold aside with his armor-clad wrist, entering.

The two men in the tent stood and bowed, before turning back to their work.

They were hunched over the table in the middle of the tent, pointing at a map with sodden figurines standing in specific areas.

The king approached the table. He hadn't uttered a word yet, looked anyone in the eye, and the air had still gone tense and tight in the camp with his arrival, fear spiking into the veins of everyone around him, except his most trusted advisors -- those in the tent -- and his knight.

Who, wasn't here.

“Sharp, what can you tell me?”

Sharp looked up and met the man’s eyes. “Their army is mighty, my king, massive. It will take strong men to bring them down.”

“We’re aware of this already,” the king huffed, “What new has developed? I know there is something. The Astocrians don't spend a day in relaxation.”

“Of course not,” Seabrook agreed, “They've changed placement of their camp. Farther back, as if they were retreating.”

The king raises a single, dark eyebrow. “You make it seem not as it is. You don't think they are retreating.”

“I think they're trying to draw us in. Make us think they're retreating.”

“Only to attack with their growing forces,” the king clicked his tongue, “Of course. You're a smart thinker.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“What should we do?”

At that moment, the folds opened again, and his two best generals, and- and his knight, entered the tent. The generals bowed respectively, but the knight did not.

He simply smirked, wicked and fun.

“Some people would be beaten for not bowing to me.” The king taunted.

The knight only smiled innocently, a devious twinkle in his eye, “Good thing I'm not ‘some people,’ then, isn't it?”

The king rolled his eyes and turned to his two generals. “Keith, Crawford, status report.”

“My men and I went miles to the East.” Keith informed, “No spies or planted bombs in sight.”

“Same for the West,” Crawford nodded, “Everything is clear.”

The knight sat in the seat by the side of the tent, beginning to sharpen his sword with the sword sharpening rock.

The king turned back to the table, picking up the piece that represented him, and the piece that represented the king of Astocria, the kingdom attacking his.

“This war has been bloodier than the ones I've fought in before.” The king said, voice heavy, “I don't know what will become of me if I allow this dictator to take away my kingdom- take away my crown.”

“That will never happen,” the knight scoffed, “You have me.”

The king met his eyes, and it was deep, piercing, and filled with more worry than the knight had originally thought. There was one emotion hidden beneath, but the knight saw right to it. He always did.

The knight stood. “You are more worried about my life than the lives of your soldiers, your highness.”

The king’s hand came up sharply, waving the men in the room off, “Leave us.”

The four bowed and fled the tent, with a warning, “We ride for the camps in an hour’s time,” and left the knight and the king alone.

It was quiet, and no one moved. The knight sighed and took a step forward, then another, and the king did not move, not until the knight was up in his space, silver armor pressed against gold.

The knight took off his glove, and his hand cupped the king’s cheek. “Jonathan…”

Jonathan leaned into the touch, not having a touch so loving since before the war began.

“I cannot lose you, Patrick,” Jonathan frowned, “You've been by my side since I was six, been my guard for the longest I can remember. This war...it’s not like the others. Astocria is not afraid of our armies. I worry…”

“You have no need to worry.” Patrick assured him. “I wouldn't be a knight, your knight, if I wasn't able to handle it.”

Jonathan turned away, painfully, a heavy burden weighing in his chest.

Patrick put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “We must saddle soon.”

Jonathan sighed small. “Of course. I'm ready.”

Patrick smiled, “No you're not.”

Jonathan turned, “You dare talk back to your king?”

“Jonathan,” Patrick crooned, holding his glove-clad hand out, “Come here, my love.”

Jonathan went easily, taking his hand. Patrick tugged him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his nose, then cupped his cheeks. “Everything will be fine. We will win this war, and you will return as king. You will rule with a strong head, like your father. You will do great things.”

Jonathan held onto Patrick’s wrists. “What if I lose you? What if you lose me?”

“I will never let that happen, you know this.”

Jonathan casted his eyes down. “I bless babes, fight battles, rule a kingdom, but I am no sorcerer, Patrick. I cannot see the future. I cannot control it.”

“You don't have to.” The knight pressed their lips together, softly, assuringly. “Our love will keep us together.”

Jonathan blinked, “You love me?”

“I do. You are my king. My Jonathan. I will follow you to the deepest places, deadliest battles, keep you safe behind my armor, protect you with my sword. But our love, no matter what happens, will never let us part. Do you believe that? Believe me?”

Jonathan closed his eyes and nodded. “I do.”

Patrick kissed him again. “Good. Now let's win us a war.”


End file.
